I Write to Rescue the Unspoken!
Some thoughts don’t let me rest until I write them down. They keep nudging me, poking me—uninvited guests that sit heavy on the mind. And yet, once I put them on paper, once I see them take shape in words or visuals, something shifts. I begin to breathe again.
Writing helps me process, not just the thought itself, but the weight it carries. It heals. It enriches. It inspires. And sometimes, it reveals something deeper than I initially understood. I’ve come to believe that ideas hold immense power—sometimes an entire universe is folded into a single thought. A universe waiting to be explored, questioned, and perhaps even lived.
But here’s what I’ve also noticed over time: the most dangerous ideas, the ones with lethal intent, often come dressed in the most persuasive words. They’re packaged well—by powerful people, for powerful purposes. They manipulate, they dominate, and they linger long after they should have been challenged.
Meanwhile, ideas that are soft, beautiful, subtle—those rooted in kindness, truth, equity, and humility—float in the background like whispers in a storm. They rarely make headlines. They are rarely weaponized. And because of that, they often fail to beat the toxic power of those louder, deadlier ideas.
This contradiction bothers me.
Why must softness be sidelined? Why does beauty remain unheard while the world listens to brutality dressed in charm?
It reminds me of why I write in the first place: to give shape to the ideas that don’t yell but yearn. To honor the thoughts that don’t conquer but care. Because even if these thoughts don’t change the world overnight, they change something in me. And perhaps, that is where change truly begin.